


that's the kind of love

by marchosias



Category: Magic: The Gathering
Genre: Light Bondage, M/M, Thunderstorms, brief suicide mention? it's not a big deal though don' t worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-11 13:33:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19928878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marchosias/pseuds/marchosias
Summary: Ral discovers Tomik's penchant for thunderstorms.





	that's the kind of love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DROLLmaeosaur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DROLLmaeosaur/gifts).



He’s felt like this for as long as he can remember, the buzzing that abides beneath his skin whenever a storm rolls in.

The roar of the rain on the roofs of the ancient Orzhov architecture always puts Tomik to sleep almost instantly. It wouldn’t be a problem, were he in his chambers beneath his heavy blankets. But here and now, at his desk poring over Teysa’s latest acquisition contracts, it is far from ideal. For some reason here lately, he has had particular trouble focusing on the obtuse verbiage. He starts to read but consistently loses focus before the sentence ends. His newfound aloofness combined with the effects of the storm were not a good combination for his productivity.

Tomik sighed and stretched, yawning hugely. He turned from the seemingly endless misery before him and went to sit in the ledge before his large window. Ravnica was darkly overcast from this height, the big dark bottoms of the clouds looming over the buildings of the Orzhov district. Heat lightning flashed in the distance. Tomik held his breath as he counted the seconds… until the low rumble of thunder echoed, confirming the lightning’s distance from him. His heart fluttered, feeling the electricity crackle beneath his skin. 

A small shape materialized out of the grey clouds, drawing closer. Tomik recognized his gargoyle, Pip, her strong stone wings beating bravely in the high gusts. He quickly busied himself with the window fastenings, the pressure differential sucking the windows fully open with a loud crash. He heard his papers flutter but the smell of the rain that rushed in instantly soothed Tomik’s rattled nerves. It always smells like the little walks he takes in the rooftop gardens of the city’s center – being surrounded by thick green leaves that shield him from the sun. He thinks sometimes he could have been a Selesnyan – the gardens welcomed him everytime he walked through them. 

His gargoyle lit down on the balcony, shaking her massive stone head and wings. She blinked big stone eyes at him and Tomik patted her snout appreciatively.

“Good girl, what do you have for me?” His voice was soft, always kind to his friend.

In his hurry to finish this contract, Tomik elected to send his gargoyle out for dinner. She was fairly adept at ordering at his favorite place, meaning she was fairly adept at handing his small envelope of money and written order at the host, then flying it back to him mostly intact. 

The wind picked up once more, whipping his hair about his head and making the open windows clatter against the stone architecture. Raindrops stung his face in cold needles and Pip took off once more, heading to the roof to roost, her errand done. 

Tomik took a big deep breath. His eyes fluttered shut, smiling serenely at the simplicity of the raindrops landing on his shoulders. The rain quickly soaked him, plastering his hair to his head. He is glad, in a flash of clarity, he left his glasses sitting atop the stack of papers inside. The wild stirrings in his heart that he succeeds in containing start to escape and waft up through his being, like so much incense into the high ceilings of the Orzhov cathedrals. There has always been something about storms that has set him alight – something that both relaxed his stressed mind but electrified his body – something he has never been able to put a name to. 

Failing to classify this feeling is the one loose end Tomik can live with, something he is comfortable squashing down and only releasing on occasions like this. A small indulgence. Just for him. Gods only knew how hard he works for others, he _deserves_ to take a break to get soaked on the rain on this high-up balcony, just because it feels good. 

He turned his face upward, opening his eyes to watch the drops fall from the sky. Lightning arced through the clouds above him, beautiful and searing and untamed. Contracts and law and order didn’t matter, all that mattered is him in this moment, held in a fractured and abstract moment of time by the storm.

~~~

Ral Zarek had a way about him that make the months pass easily.

Initially a wave of panic gripped the advokist when Ral brought him to their favorite (downright nondescript, just perfect for them) bar and pushed a key into his soft palm over dinner, grinning hugely. He had never… lived with anyone before. He had had a couple brief relationships in the past, a couple vampires that pursued him, brought him huge bouquets and soft, filmy garments in hope of seeing Tomik dressed like a present ready for them to unwrap.

What would it be like? He overheard others in the halls sometimes, griping about their significant others, how they seemed to resent so the ones that they themselves had chosen. It never sat right with Tomik. Would this closensess drive him to the same bitterness too? But none of them were Ral. None of them could hope to be him.

Sure, Tomik would come home to a half-disassembled piece of gods-knew-what on the dining room table, but there would be a grinning Ral obscured behind it, gesturing him over excitedly to explain the workings of the machine he had brought to their place. 

Months went by and there was none of the resentment Tomik had been afraid of – quite the opposite. The two grew closer by the day, laughing in the mornings over breakfast and falling into each other in the evenings.

~~~

Ral was stretched out long and breathing deep in their bed, on his stomach with white-streaked hair in disarray. His face, usually animated by a wild energy, lay slack and relaxed, startlingly unlined in the gloom of the early morning. Tomik brushed soft fingers over his back, over the lines and planes of his muscles. Not usually a deep sleeper, Ral stirred, movement fluid without the bulk of his accumulator. His eyes were hazy, but razor sharp grin present. 

“Morning…” he drawled, skin around his eyes crinkled in the low light as he woke up slowly . Their curtains were drawn tight before the big dark clouds outside, distant rumbles abiding a coming storm. 

Tomik felt strong arms sneak around his waist and draw him close, Ral’s bare skin hot against his dressing gown. He was teased relentlessly over his fondness for the old-fashioned clothes of the Orzhov, but he knows Ral secretly loves the way the cloaks and robes drape over his form.

The wild electricity and energy of the storm gripped them both, Ral moving over Tomik and pinning him to the soft bed. Tomik hummed softly and nipped at Ral’s lower lip, eliciting a growl from the storm mage. Tomik always melted in his hands, thighs parting as his dressing gown was slipped up his body by clever hands. He drew in a shuddering breath, feeling the rough drag of Ral’s big hands on his hips.

A massive peal of thunder shook their home and the roar of a new rush of rain pelted down on their roof. Tomik disentangled himself from Ral with a little noise from the storm mage. 

“Wha…” A half asleep Ral grumbled, watching the flurry of his gown follow Tomik to the double doors in their bedroom.

The breeze gusted in a wash of water droplets when Tomik opened the doors to the balcony. Ral gave a strangled little noise of protest, taken by surprise. “Babe, what are you doing…?”

Ral was awake now.

Clutching his dressing gown around him, Tomik stepped into the storm. The rain pelted his face in cool little needles, the dim light of the storm revealing a stoic and still sleeping Ravnica. Ral had a tiny little thought that his love was possessed by some rogue spirit and would throw himself from the balcony.

To Ral’s relief, Tomik just stood and looked out at the clouds. It didn’t take long for the sheer material of his dressing gown to saturate and cling to his lithe body, hiding nothing from his lover. Tomik braced his hands on the railing of the balcony, inclining his head and closing his eyes. His hair started to absorb the rain, laying flat against his head.

“You know, I’ve always loved standing in storms. The energy is so chaotic. It’s so powerful, so wild… just like you.” 

Ral’s mouth flattened into a hard line but softened when Tomik looked over his shoulder at him, hazel eyes bright with an untamed energy the advokist rarely displayed. Ral bit back the witty comment on his tongue. Already aroused from their morning snuggles, Ral felt his cock throb at the sight of his lover in the storm he himself had undoubtedly whipped up in his amorous state. He sighed deep and Ral swore he could feel what the raindrops felt when they fell onto Tomik’s skin and slid down, all the way down.

“And how long have you done this?” Ral choked out, throat suddenly dry. The usually mild and quiet advokist had struck him absolutely dumb with his audacity, not even his flattery. Ral was sure there was nothing but sparks and wet cotton in his head now – brain clearly having planeswalked somewhere else on its own.

While Ral was gawping, Tomik turned to face him, leaning against the railing and tipping his head back once again. A blissful smile bloomed across his face as he smoothed his hair back and Ral was sure his heart was going to stop, unable to handle the sight of Tomik looking absolutely fucked in the storm, sheer robes clinging to every curve of him. In response to his lust, the storm picked up, lightning arcing in the grey skies behind Tomik and the rain pelting harder down onto him.

“Gods… about as long as I can remember. It helps when I’m stressed. I just like how it feels. Clears my head.”

Ral could see Tomik open his eyes, long lashes wet and dark around them, filled with a feral energy foreign to him but was nonetheless incredibly compelling. The storm mage swung his legs out and sat on the side of their bed, still wrapped up in their sheets. Ral would deplete the leylines and bring a storm to fill the entirety of Ravnica with lightning and rain if it meant Tomik would look like this, drenched to the bone but filled with power.

_That makes him almost as much a storm mage as me…_ was the stray thought that bounced around Ral’s empty head. Licking his lips, he stood and started to approach Tomik. But the advokist held an arm out, forbidding Ral to come closer. Gold chains formed around the storm mage’s wrists, and Tomik took a few wet steps forward. Ral echoed him, stepping backwards until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed and he sat down obediently. More gold chains appeared, gently pulling Ral back to restrain him on the bed.

"Fucking Orzhov…” he swore and grinned wickedly, watching Tomik approach. There was a sinister energy about the advokist now and _gods_ did this attitude do things to Ral that he couldn’t account for. Tomik’s hopelessly saturated robes clung to his own arousal, material accentuating his hips. But it was his dark eyes that drew Ral’s attention. Lightning struck in response to this and it painted Tomik in stark light that sent a shiver down Ral’s spine.

Smoothly, Tomik straddled Ral’s hips, his wet body and gown dripping all over the bed. Ral was far away from caring about wet sheets, reaching up to touch his soaked lover. The chains caught his arms halfway in their motion and Ral growled, thrusting his hips up, only to have Tomik brace on his chest and ride him with a smooth roll of his own hips.

“You’re not going anywhere, Guildmaster Zarek.” And he’d be damned if Tomik’s husky pronouncement of his title made him groan and roll his hips again. Tomik grinned wickedly and leaned down, kissing Ral dirty, licking into his mouth and biting his bottom lip. He sat up atop Ral, looking down at him with all the energy of the storm rolling through them both. 

“I’m in control now.”

**Author's Note:**

> i was supremely inspired by a tumblr post by user stormconduit (https://stormconduit.tumblr.com/post/185524074934) about tomik being a slut for thunderstorms and this happened. i am not one bit sorry. yall all know he's secretly wild. 
> 
> this is also the ship that grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and yanked me out of writing retirement (writirement?) so yeah it's been a while but it's good to be back.
> 
> also dedicated to DROLLmaeosaur, their fic Bar Haunt thoroughly gripped me and I have read it maybe close to 15 times now. 
> 
> sequel coming soon?


End file.
